


Not Quite, But Close

by sapphire_child



Category: Lost
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e04 Eggtown, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-26
Updated: 2008-02-26
Packaged: 2019-01-19 09:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12407937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: They might have had a proper happy ending if things had been different. As it is, they find something that’s not quite, but close.





	Not Quite, But Close

**Author's Note:**

> This is just about the only thing that would restore my love for this show – if this was the final scene of the final episode.
> 
>  **Dedication:** to [](https://pacejunkie.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://pacejunkie.livejournal.com/)**pacejunkie** – don’t let the world get you down darlin’

“They’ll be here soon.”

Aaron doesn’t answer, merely takes his thumb and positions it snugly in his mouth. He’s nearly three now, held tight in the arms of his minder as they wait together. It gives him a better view of the proceedings – not that he understands what’s going on but still. He’s comfortable in these arms, warm and strong and loving as they are.

Despite his affection for the child however, the man who holds him is taut and tense, trying to stop his foot from tapping impatiently. He’s been waiting a long time for this day. He’s been planning and plotting and _waiting_ for so long and now that it’s here he almost doesn’t believe it. He’s given up so much just to be here.

Kate is standing beside him, throwing the occasional longing glance at Aaron and he does his best to ignore her. Aaron is almost as comfortable now with him as he is with her. He’s certain that Aaron won’t struggle to get back to his so-called mother. She’s been crying again today, just like the day that he came to see her and she cried all over his jacket, sobbing, begging him not to take her baby away from her.

“Kate he’s not _yours_ ,” he had told her cuttingly. “And he never has been. He needs his real mother.”

Her hazel eyes had darkened at his words and she had turned away from him, beyond all grief. He’d seen before what losing a child could do to a mother however, and with that realisation there came a pang of sympathy, of understanding for her. He told her that she would be allowed to visit no doubt, whenever she asked.

“It won’t be the same,” she protested.

“He was never meant to be yours in the first place,” he reminded her and her head dropped, dark hair falling in a long curtain on either side of her face. “You have to learn to let him go.”

Beyond Kate the others stand, rigid in place like obedient schoolchildren although each and every fibre of their being seems to scream _run_. They keep sneaking sideways glances at him too, still not really believing what they’re seeing. He can’t really blame them for that but it’s still a little strange for him.

On his other side is Desmond’s Penny – a jangled bundle of nerves today. She doesn’t even really know the members of the Oceanic Six – has never even met most of them until today. That’s why she stands on the other side of him. Despite the heavy involvement she’s had in all of this she’s still separate, apart from them and their stories.

He turns to smile nervously at her and she returns it briefly before her eyes flicker back towards the double glass doors, through which they can see the long corridor that leads to the airplane which has just docked, carefully, cautiously, slowly.

It’s almost time.

They make their way slowly up the corridor. It’s almost like none of them want to be the first to step out into the world again. Are they scared? Or is it just that they’re all too weary to be bothered with excitement?

The Oceanic officials open the doors and his stomach tightens as the first person steps over the threshold and suddenly he panics – _I’m not ready for this_ – and his grip tightens on the child in his arms. The survivors begin to file out, staying close, blinking quickly and clinging to each other as though they truly are frightened.

They’re finally home.

It overwhelms him to see them, safe and whole because of him. Without his prodding, his guidance, his never ending bullying of the others, these people would still be stranded, lost. And the people beside him? They’d still be living out their lives like nothing ever went wrong in the first place.

Because something went wrong – oh yes something went _very_ wrong and none of them can pretend any longer. Not now that the fruits of their mistakes are ripening and blossoming right before their very eyes.

There are greetings then, and deep embraces and tears and a collection of fervent thank you’s for all of them. The others look embarrassed but accept the extravagant praise nonetheless. They don’t want them to know that for years they’ve been lying, denying the existence of their friends. _He_ certainly won’t tell – he holds no grudges to these damaged people.

The survivors are staring at him, at Aaron, at Penny – curious and bewildered. Aaron is shied by the bustle but both adults are still watching them disembark the plane hungrily, impatiently. Penny is practically dancing up on tiptoe to see through the crowd in her excitement but the ones that they are waiting for are the last to leave the plane.

They walk together, these two lost souls from a place that is only a fantasy and a distant memory for the ones who have been waiting for them to come home.

Desmond walks with a slight limp but his hair still falls in long dark waves beside his weather beaten face. His dark eyes speak of a nameless sorrow and years of loneliness but there is a determined set to his shoulders – the possibility of hope. Claire is ragged and frayed around the edges, her clothes are composed but she herself is worn out. He’s never seen her look so tired before. They’re both wearing blue – Desmond a rich cornflower, Claire a brilliant blue reminiscent of a summer sky – it matches her eyes perfectly.

His heart aches with memories, with familiarity, and he draws Aaron even tighter into his arms.

Penny takes one abrupt step forward and from there she all but shoves her way through the crowd, all decorum forgotten, unable to wait any longer. She rushes to Desmond and the two of them hesitate for a long moment to stare at each other before fairly throwing themselves at each other in a bone crushing embrace. Desmond is crying instantly, his face pressed into her hair and Penny’s hands are gripping his shirt, his hair, his shoulders – like she’s afraid that he’ll fall apart without her to hold him together.

The survivors pause to drink in the scene before them, (the couple kiss frantically for several seconds and then embrace again) smiling widely at each other or shedding joyous tears. Claire steps back from them awkwardly, her lips smiling but her eyes blank. She turns slowly to make her way through the crowd, presumably to find Kate, to find her son…

Instead her eyes alight on him, standing there with Aaron in his arms and her mouth makes a sudden ‘o’ of surprise, of shock, of amazement. She is frozen to the spot, unable to move and so he begins to walk towards her instead, the crowd parting on either side of him like the Red Sea did for Moses.

She stares up into his eyes when he stops in front of her, her chest suddenly heaving. And then she reaches suddenly for her son and snatches him into her arms. He lets her take him, watches her bury her face in him and begin to sob breathlessly. Aaron is bewildered, stiff and awkward in her embrace, but he curls his small arms around her neck as best he can and squeezes gently.

Claire begins to sob even harder at this gesture but finally, finally, she manages to pull in enough air to look up again and meet his eyes.

Blue on blue – just the way it used to be.

“H-how?” she stammers through her sobs. “How did...?”

“It’s…kind of a long story,” Charlie says carefully.

She lets out a relieved gasp-sob and then wipes the tears from her cheek. They are instantly replaced by new ones so he puts his hands on either side of her face, trembling fingers and trembling lips that are trying to smile. Claire shuts her eyes and takes in a painful, shuddering breath as he brushes the flow of tears away and then presses a careful kiss to her lips.

It isn’t intended to be a declaration of passion, nor an oath of undying love. It’s been years now – _years_ – and he doesn’t really expect Claire to fall all over herself to be with him again after everything that she’s been through without him. This kiss is everything that he ever wanted to say to her but couldn’t. It’s the loneliness of months and years of standing by and watching as his friends slowly fell apart. It’s the answer to a promise that he made to her once upon a time and only now has finally been fulfilled.

Which is why he’s so surprised when she wraps an arm around his neck and pulls his lips back to hers, her tears spilling onto his skin, cold and painful and real and _wonderful_.

“Thank you,” she whispers and then kisses him again and again between each word. “Thank you, thank you, _thank_ you.”

“You’re welcome luv,” he says, slightly bemused. She beams unexpectedly at the familiarity of the endearment, at the memory that the word invokes and Charlie can’t help but smile back at her. He feels his eyes crinkling into smile lines at the corners, his lips pulled back over his teeth…

And suddenly there is an eruption of applause from all around them, smattered with a few wolf whistles. The two of them glance up and Claire blushes when they realises that the entire room is watching them, smiling and laughing, cheering and hugging each other. Even Kate can’t help but smile despite her own heartbreak and the tears glazing her cheeks.

“Yeah alright, alright,” Charlie says to the room at large. “The shows over now – you can all sod off.”

The crowd chuckles and turn back to their own business. Desmond is watching Charlie with overbright eyes and Penny is talking rapidly in his ear – no doubt telling him exactly how this miracle came to pass. Charlie doesn’t expect to speak to him for a little while though, they’re both too preoccupied with their own interests. There will be time enough to talk later.

“How?” Claire asks again, tuning Charlie back into the here and now. “How did this…did you…” she stops to shake her head, amazed. “Just… _how_?”

“Mummy?” Aaron says tentatively and Claire settles him on her hip and gazes at him in amazement. Charlie can only imagine what this must be like for her – to see him again after so long, to se him so grown up, speaking and thinking and learning and...

“What is it sweetheart?” she asks but Aaron merely stares at her, his lower lip jutting out in such a _Claire_ expression that Charlie feels his heart warm at the sight even as he presses his lips together in a grim smile.

“He means Kate, Claire.”

Claire looks up at him and the happiness fades from her face.

“Of course,” she says, hollowly, after a moment. “She’s been…looking after him hasn’t she?”

“Yes,” he says but then wastes no time in rushing in with, “And I have been too – lately anyway. He’s bound to be a bit confused though.”

Claire looks down at her son, her face twisting in pain. “He’s so big,” she says softly. “He’s grown up _so_ much…”

Charlie puts an arm around her shoulder and pulls her gently into his side.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “Let’s go talk to Kate.”

Claire nods once, a tiny gesture, and allows him to lead her through the crowd, to where Kate and the others stand.

If Charlie could make the world work so that everyone got a happy ending then he would do it. He can’t stand to see Claire like this, so distraught, so broken, her own son not even knowing who she is. He can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for her. And then there’s Kate – Kate who loves Aaron like he’s her own son. For all Charlie knows, she could be planning to file a lawsuit in order to get him back again. And Aaron, poor Aaron is going to be confused beyond all measure – is _already_ confused beyond all measure. How on earth do you tell a three year old child that his mother isn’t really his mother after all?

His thoughts turn to the future, to his future, and the future of all of the survivors of Oceanic flight 815. Where do they go next? Do they just go back to their lives now? Pretend that they haven’t been changed forever? That they haven’t been torn into ever smaller pieces and jumbled back together like a jigsaw puzzle missing half the pieces?

The damage that has already been done is irreversible. Charlie and Claire might have had a proper happy ending if things had been different. There might have been a wedding, another child, a house with a porch and a swing set out the back.

But there are some things that time cannot change, that no amount of explaining will ever be able to fully clarify. Charlie holds his family closer into his side and lets a single tear slide slowly down his cheek.

If it ever came to a choice between this (the three of them shattered almost beyond repair and being slammed back together again without any glue to hold them) or never being together ever again…well he’ll gladly take the first option.

As imperfect as his happily ever after might be, he wouldn’t ever want it any other way.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/155122168@N03/37174922343/in/album-72157686884668124/)


End file.
